The Variables in the Valentines
by grc73
Summary: A Valentine's FF for FaithInBones. On Valentine's Day, Booth and Brennan are separated by accidental explosions and thunder-snow. All in a day's work...
1. Chapter 1

**Happy Belated Valentine's Day to the prolific FaithinBones, who gave me quite a challenge:**

 ** _Element: they are both trapped at work, Booth at the Hoover and Brennan at the Jeffersonian due to a storm on Valentine's night. The kids are ok, they're at Day Care at the Jeffersonian_**

 ** _Please Exclude: Don't want breakup, death or meanness._**

 **Not terribly easy to be honest, keeping them apart (goes against every _Bones_ bone in my FF body), but I appreciate a challenge, and I think I have come up with something that fulfils the brief. It's not beta'd (yet) - there is likely to be an updated version of this chapter once my Jen's had a look at it.**

 **Reluctantly posting this as the first of a two-parter as it's already technically 3 days late. Real-life (a lot of it at the moment) has got in the way a lot more than I would have wanted it to, my apologies, especially to FaithInBones. I have written some of part two, I have paused it at an opportune moment.**

* * *

 _ **06:10 Valentine's Day, near future.**_

Dr Temperance Brennan, queen of the Jeffersonian's research crown, lay awake quietly in her bed as the dawn broke, contemplating the day ahead of her. She was ahead of the alarm by a few minutes, and was using those precious moments to plan what was set to be a busy day. Beside her, her husband stirred for the first time. As he turned over to face her, his arm, like a seat-belt, wrapped around her automatically, finally leaving his hand resting on her side firmly yet gently. She smiled to herself. Some things never changed. They may have been together romantically for several years now, but Booth remained as protective as ever.

"Booth", whispered Brennan, "it's almost time to get up".

"C'mon Baby, stay in bed", Booth's voice husky as he reached full consciousness. "It's still early and we can snuggle. You love it when we snuggle", he continued, conspiratorially. With that, he took the opportunity to press his lips to her neck, taking advantage of her regular response mechanism to his ministrations. She was, as always, putty in his hands.

Brennan let out a pleasured groan, letting him have his way for a few minutes, thoroughly relishing in the moment, before the practicalities of alarms, children, and work reminded her that this would make for an awkward conversation with Christine and Hank if they didn't stop soon. They had had this happen before. The children had almost walked in on their parents in the throes of a passionate encounter on more than one occasion, and at least one time, this had led to a very difficult situation involving much confabulation, swerving around the topic to a baffled Hank and quite cynical Christine, who had worked out that mummy and daddy were definitely up to something.

With a further regretful sigh reflecting her loss at what had been an extremely pleasant start of the morning, Brennan finally pulled herself out of bed and propelled herself towards the bathroom, but not before leaving Booth with a sultry look over her shoulder.

* * *

 _ **07:45 - Booth Household**_

The assembled Booth family sat at the breakfast bar eating their various meals.

"What'cha doing at school today, kids?"

"We have a math test", said Christine brightly..

"I'm making mommy a Valentine card."

"That's supposed to be a surprise, Hank!" chastised his elder sister.

"That's very sweet Hank. Thank you."

"Who's Valentine?"

"The myth of Saint Valentine dates back to the third century A.D. when marriages were banned by the Roman government of Emperor Claudius II. He decided that married men made bad soldiers..."

"No way! Married men make the best soldiers, the ones with the most to fight for", Booth interrupted, feeling somewhat offended at the two-millennia old historical figure. Brennan reached over to ruffle his hair affectionately before continuing.

"Anyway, Valentine, who was a priest, allegedly conducted marriages in secret, in direct disregard of the rules. He was imprisoned for this crime, fell in love with the gaoler's daughter, leaving her a letter with the words 'from your Valentine' before he died. It became a feast day a couple of centuries later, and it is suggested that the English writer and poet Geoffrey Chaucer took this myth in the late 1300s and turned it into the beginnings of the romantic concept we have today, albeit now commercialised beyond all reasonable recognition. Some of the traditions from earlier centuries were quite unusual, not at all considered romantic by modern standards, including involving being whipped-" Booth cut in, slightly alarmed.

"- Maybe not so appropriate right now, Bones!" He gave her a brief hard ' _change the subject_ ' stare. "You haven't forgotten about out eight pm reservation at Vespucci's?" His tone lightened considerably. "The best spicy meatballs this side of the Potomac."

"No. I am very much looking forward to their vegetarian lasagna. Kathleen is picking up Christine and Hank straight after school and they are staying there overnight." Her voice lowered so only Booth could hear. "I have procured an appropriately alluring dress and accompanying lingerie set. It's quite revealing."

"I love Valentine's Day" smirked Booth, taking the opportunity to lean across to give his wife a PG-rated kiss but with no allusion as to the R-rated thoughts swimming about his head. After lingering for rather too long in front of a captive audience, transported to their favourite pocket universe, they were rudely interrupted but Hank's ' _ewwwww'_ sound bringing them firmly back down to earth.

" At least five steamboats…" chuckled Brennan as she reluctantly pulled away and went back to her breakfast.

" And later, the whole Pacific fleet…" added Booth, at a volume only they could hear. "Maybe even the submarine division."

Brennan nearly choked on her oatmeal.

* * *

 _ **08:30 - The SUV**_

The kids now at their kindergarten and school respectively, on the way to dropping Brennan off on his way to The Hoover building, Booth's favourite classic rock radio station played in the background as they discussed the mundanities of the day. The sun was shining and although it was chilly, there was a pleasant freshness in the air that suggested that it was going to be a beautiful late winter's day.

" _…And on to the weather now, currently 41 degrees Fahrenheit central DC right now, 39 in Virginia suburbs, and 38 in Maryland. Reports from our colleagues suggesting a drop in temperature, heavy snow showers later and even possible 'thunder-snow' – we'll keep you posted on the progress of that storm, so stay tuned to W-YKD radio for further updates._ "

Neither of them were paying attention.

* * *

 _ **11:30 - The Jeffersonian**_

Brennan was trying her hardest to remain distracted from her husband's comments earlier that morning. She wasn't entirely successful.

She'd never been much for Valentine's Day. It had been a useful way to secure a sure-fire date and satisfy those biological urges she'd always kidded herself were the beginning and end of her experience of a successful relationship, entirely on her terms. Get in, get satisfied, get out. And mostly, it'd worked really well. Most men were happy with a casual arrangement, it fitted with their biological and anthropological drivers.

Then she'd met Booth. He'd changed the parameters entirely. She had come to hate the day because it reminded her of what she did not have, and how close she was that she _could_ what she really wanted, had she just been able to open herself up. Those words she had written during that period – " _The thought of losing so much control over personal happiness is unbearable._ " and her recognition that maybe, just maybe, it was all worth it, left her horribly tormented. It had made for great book sales though, all that frustration at what might be was channelled into her novels.

Finally, one year, they weren't just partners anymore. Brennan was carrying his child, not far from term, in fact, and, they'd had a remarkably sweet evening. He'd bought her flowers and made her dinner, much appreciated with her third-trimester body finally succumbing to the weariness of the last few weeks of her pregnancy. They spent the rest of the night curled up on the couch watching a movie and feeding each other ice cream. She'd finally understood what the day meant, in its purest form.

Now, several years later, Brennan allowed herself to enjoy this feast day for what it was, a chance for Booth, even more than he usually did, to show her just how much he loved her. In her own way, she managed to do the same, even if it wasn't so extravagant.

She stood in limbo, working an old cold case from the nineteenth century, headphones on, enjoying some Bizet, when Aristoo arrived in somewhat of an animated state.

"Doctor Brennan, sorry to interrupt."

"It's the Pearl Fishers, Doctor Vaziri. Are you OK? You appear somewhat agitated."

"Cam had a call from Deputy Director Stark. A body was found in a decomposed state up by the Georgetown section of the Potomac, near the university. Does not look like a natural death. The body is on its way here."

"OK, thank you Doctor Vaziri. I'll be up in a few minutes." Brennan packed away the remains and after making a few new notes, replaced the case file binder that Doctor Edison had introduced a few years before, whilst she and Booth had been on opposite sides of the world.

Aristoo had lain the victim out. The body showed signs of a dump, but more immediately, a large section of the shoulder was missing, looking like it had been blown off by some sort of explosive. Cam and Hodgins took various samples, and by the time Brennan appeared, Angela had already been taking head measurements to I.D. the body.

"What do we have, Doctor Vaziri, aside from more flesh than I'd like to see."

"Female, mid twenties, that large chunk of the scapula missing, surprising the arm is still attached. Go flesh!" Aristoo joked, looking up to find an unimpressed Brennan, also Cam smiled slightly. "Doctor Hodgins has already swabbed the area to look for ballistics and explosives." As if by magic, Hodgins appeared.

"And," Hodgins continued Aristoo's explanation, "There is a small trace of C4, it could have been an doctored explosive bullet like a dum-dum, that grazed, hence didn't take the arm off cleanly. Unusual M.O. though. I think an experiment might be in order."

"Surely FBI ballistics can give us this information?" Asked Cam, already resigned to what she knew would be coming next.

"Come on, Doctor Saroyan, you know that I will be much more thorough. And they don't give cause of death, but they will be able to corroborate what I find." He waggled his eyebrows and grinned at her. Cam thought about resisting, looked at her husband, who shrugged his shoulders at her and smiled as noncommittally as he could.

"OK. But no unnecessary explosions. And I want everything fully written up, costs accounted for any expenditure and an experimental **_outcome_**.

"Thanks Cam, I promise I will do all those things. Aristoo, I might need a hand setting up the mannequins. Can you help with that?" Aristoo tried not to look too enthusiastic.

"Sure Hodgins." He looked back at Cam with a small amount of trepidation. She, of course, saw straight through him, and rolled her eyes.

* * *

 _ **13:30 - The Hoover Building**_

On the other side of central DC, special agent Seeley Booth was making plans for the upcoming evening with his wife. Aside from dinner at the rather swanky Vespucci's, he had planned a horse-drawn ride around the monuments (he'd vetted the company first with the SPCA to ensure the horses were well-treated) and a candle-lit bath for two in the tub when they got home. The rest would play out fairly obviously, and he smiled approvingly to himself as he fast-forwarded his brain to later that night and wondered exactly what dress Brennan would be wearing, and even more about what would be underneath.

He entirely didn't notice that since that morning, the sky had darkened and the clouds hung pendulously overhead...

* * *

More to follow...


	2. Chapter 2

_*****UPDATE 17th March*** - this has now been beta'd and re-posted.**_

 **Hello. Finally, the second and final part of this story. I can only apologise for the delay, this has not yet been beta'd yet (Jen is poorly at the moment and I was aware time is ticking horribly) so I'm publishing it anyway with a view that I'll update any mistakes I've missed as soon as I've had a second pair of eyes over it.**

 **I can't say this has been hugely fun to write, to be honest. Keeping Brennan and Booth apart is so unnatural to my general writing style. For me, i** **t was like trying to fit wrong shaped jigsaw pieces together. I hope that doesn't come across too much in how it reads, and that FiB in particular, enjoys it.**

 **I also took a liberty and moved the kids from Jefferson Daycare (logistically with the age gap between Christine and Hank, they would unlikely to be in there together in any case.) I did a little research on explosives, but I am no expert, and you'll just have to put up with any scientific inaccuracies on this one!**

* * *

 **16.30 The Jeffersonian**

Doctor Jack Hodgins. Husband, Father, Entomologist. King of the Lab. An all-round nice guy. And soon, most hated man in the Jeffersonian…

"OK, we appear to be ready." Aristoo and Hodgins had rigged up an improbable scenario involving a series of gel dummies and a haphazard firing range consisting of several combinations of non-Geneva-Convention bullets, collected by questionable means, and small actual explosives.

"Here we go. Number one."

"Fire in the hole!" The first bullet, a regular dum-dum, lodged and expanded in the shoulder of the first dummy, blowing a large chunk off, but not matching the damage done to the victim.

"Same again, then?"

A next one was loaded, this time a metal core surrounded by a tiny amount of bullet-shaped lump of C4.

"Are you sure about this?"

"It'll be fine, I've double-checked all the amounts."

"OK."

"OK! Ready…? Fire in the Hole!"

There was a single moment, a split second after Hodgins had pulled the trigger when he realised he might made what for him would be a schoolboy error, miscalculating the exact amount he needed, and that the explosion might occur too early as instead of regular primer, the C4 would act as the ignition as well as the explosive and explode straight away…

There was a flash of light and a large bang.

The next thing he knew, he was somewhere out of his wheelchair and on the floor. There were gel body parts everywhere, along with accompanying stench of burning rubber and plastic. Hodgins looked across the floor to find Aristoo sitting on the floor, rubbing his head. It was only thanks to the safety checklist that they had been forced to follow that prevented any major injuries, and by sheer luck that the bullet had had enough time to fire before it did explode; but way too early.

To top it all off, the lock-down alarm was sounding. This wasn't good.

"Well, I guess Cam got an outcome," said Hodgins, through the smoke and debris. The alarm was ringing loudly and they would be in lockdown for some time as, due to protocols, Security had to check the entire main building. Sometimes that could take hours.

Just as Hodgins was starting to find his bearings, moving ever closer was the tell-tale sound of very angry heels clip-clopping across the floor.

"Doctor Hodgins!" Cam was on the warpath. It wasn't going to be pretty…

* * *

 **17:35 – The Hoover Building**

Booth's phone rang with the familiar tone from his wife's cell. Scrambling through the mountain of paperwork on his desk, he found it buried under a tox-screen report, managing to answer it on the forth ring.

"Wass'up, Bones? Missing me?" he grinned down the phone.

"Well, yes, as I always do in anticipation of a romantic interlude with you. However, unfortunately this is not such an event. Please don't make any attempt on Hodgins' life, but his experiment has set off a lockdown in the Jeffersonian. I may be some time."

"How much time…?"

"Well, he caused an incident involving some C4 and a gel mannequin, so currently, the Museum security detail is currently sweeping the building as protocol, despite Hodgins' protestations that the event was local in nature. He is not a popular man right now."

"I will kill him." Booth was seething.

"No, you will not!"

"I'm heading right over to the Jeffersonian-" Booth flicked the blinds on his office window. Beyond him there was a wall of white. "Woah."

"Horse?"

"No, Bones," he had to take a moment to prevent himself from laughing. "I don't think Hodgins has anything to worry about: he's been entirely outranked. It's snowed."

"What?"

"Snowed."

"Yes, I heard you. And?"

"Not just a little snow, Bones… have you looked out of the window lately?"

"Booth, you know the lab has no windows at ground level."

"Six inches, Bones."

"What?!"

"Six inches of snow in about three hours. There's a blizzard."

"Booth. Hang on, you're telling me six inches of snow has fallen in three hours?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

"Yes."

"Are the roads clear?"

"Hmmmm, not sure but I doubt it. It's a white-out right now."

"What are we going to do?"

"Well, the kids are fine, Kathleen's is a short walk from the school, so they'll be OK. Maybe just call and check in a while. As for us – well, I can always walk over the lab." He sighed, knowing what he was going to say next might come across as slightly lovesick. "I don't want to spend the night away from you. It's Valentine's Day, for God's sake. I'm not going to be away from my wife on the most romantic day of the year. It's only a little over a mile walk, how bad can it be. Are you still locked in?"

"For now, probably another half an hour or so and security will be done. Whilst it's frustrating, they do need to follow protocols." Brennan paused for a moment and took a sigh, touched by her husband's very romantic gesture. "I love you very much," she said, softly. After years together, she could tell he was now grinning from ear-to-ear from down the other end of the phone. "However, whilst I am very moved by your extremely romantic gesture, you must not put yourself in peril, Booth. It is not conducive to our successful marriage if I lose you to hyperthermia. I do not,' she chuckled, "…want a frozen popsicle husband. Besides, Valentine's Day is technically only a social constr-"

"It's OK Bones. I get it. I love you too. So, so much."

* * *

 **18.30 – The Hoover Building**

Having waited impatiently for enough time to have expected the security to re-open the building, Booth raided his locker and, starting with head-to-toe military-grade thermals, he

wrapped himself up as much as he could with as many layers as he could find, and grabbed some waterproof hiking boots he kept for the occasional times he needed them on a case. In theory, it should have only been a twenty-minute zig-zag stroll across The Mall. However, as a former ranger he was under no illusion that with the amount of snow, this journey could take rather longer, and he sure as hell didn't want to die of hypothermia trying. He was probably a little crazy, but the thought of spending the night apart from his wife – _he still felt a little novelty thinking of her that way and they'd been married for several years now_ \- on Valentine's Day, was too much to bear.

As he walked out of the Hoover and into the snow storm, Booth was hit by a wall of cold air. This was way worse than he'd expected. The temperature had certainly dropped several degrees since the morning, and from what little he could see, the snow had fallen so fast that the authorities had not had time to grit the roads. Cars had been abandoned and the snow had fallen, and continued to fall at a rate he'd only seen a few times in the past. He buttoned up his coat, adjusted his scarf to cover as much of his face as he could, and set off into the snow.

* * *

 **20.30 Jeffersonian Lab**

Brennan hadn't heard from Booth for over two hours. She'd called him several times to stay put, with no response. Whilst Brennan had every faith in her husband and his accumulation of talents, having made her way up to the top floor of the museum and taken a look out of the window, she was now painfully aware of both the level of snow and that her husband was attempting to traverse The Mall to reach her.

After calling Kathleen the childminder, she was reassured that the children had made it back safely, where they would be spending the night. _But Booth…_ She paced up and down in her office. _Damn it,_ _sometimes this whole 'happiness contingent on her family' thing could cause such emotional burdens. But then, those burdens, she remembered, were the same ones that allowed her to fly. Thanks to Booth and their mutual love, they'd flown far beyond the sun._

Just as Brennan was ruminating on the joys of love and marriage, she heard her name called from the lab.

"Doctor B! It's Booth. At least, I think it's Booth."

The main lab doors opened and there, covered from head to toe in snow, and looking like somewhere between a yeti and Ernest Shackleton, was _The Abominable Booth-man_.

"Booth!"

"Bones." He shivered slightly. At that moment, he was still covered in not-yet-melting snow so hugging him was not an option. She pulled down his scarf hiding his most of his face and neck and kissed him soundly on the lips. He smiled weakly.

"Oh my God, you are freezing. Let's get you out of these clothes and into the decontamination showers to warm up." She led her frozen husband across the lab as quickly as he could walk, a trail of meltwater just starting to follow behind him.

Alone in the decon shower, she carefully removed his layers of clothing. He wasn't in any state for anything sexual, but there was something incredibly intimate about her unwrapping him like this and she couldn't help but smile affectionately at him as she did so.

Stripping him down to his boxers, she then stripped down to her own modest underwear: not what she'd been planning for their Valentine's night. She hugged him tightly, rubbing her hands up and down his back.

"You OK?"

"Getting there, I'm still quite cold."

"I'm going to put on the water, just warm, OK, You know we shouldn't warm you up too quickly. And I'm coming in with you."

"Are you sure, Bones?"

"Of course. You'd do the same." He smiled weakly at her and allowed her to remove his boxers and her modest underwear folding them up neatly. They just squeezed into the shower together and she kept the spray mostly on his body, slowly warming the water temperature up over several minutes and hugging him all the while. As he warmed up, he started to kiss her, and she couldn't help but respond. Summoning up all her willpower, she pulled away from him just little.

"Against our mutual desires, we probably shouldn't take this too far right now. There are a ton of people just outside and you're still recovering from that walk, which was crazy by the way."

"You're probably right, which is really annoying." He pouted a little. "And it wasn't _that_ far."

"Far enough in a snow storm, Booth."

"Yeah, OK, point taken. Now can I kiss you again?"

"OK, but nothing more."

Booth kissed her again, and took the opportunity to squeeze her bottom.

"Booth!"

"We are not going to get home tonight, Bones."

With both now in shorts and vests, thanks to the vast selection of clothes they'd established at their offices and Booth's car, the partners snuggled together on their make-shift bed, on the floor of Brennan's office. Various cushions, pillows and sleeping bags had been procured from storage for the many stranded at the Jeffersonian that night, first by the lockdown, and then by the snow. It wasn't the first-time Brennan had spent the night in her office, although most of those times had been by choice, on her sofa. She noted though, that it hadn't happened once since the incident that had finally pulled herself and Booth together.

"I'm sorry we never got to Vespucci's, Booth. I know you were looking forward to those meatballs."

"I was. And to see you in that dress... and", he whispered in her ear, "that lingerie."

"Well," chuckled Brennan, "That's all still at home, ready to wear. We can find another opportunity." She grinned at him.

"I look forward to that." He gave her a knowing smile, before settling down beside her. They kissed lazily for a while, just enjoying being together, aware that whilst they were alone in Brennan's office with the door shut and the blinds closed, like the decon shower earlier, this was not the time for a passionate encounter. There were many people milling around the lab, people knew they were in there (as opposed to the odd occasion when they'd snuck in very late to an empty lab to take advantage to fulfil a few mutually long-considered fantasies early in their relationship) and they were pretty tired after the long and eventful day.

As they lay cuddling, Booth now virtually asleep in her arms, Brennan's mind went back to the first night they'd spent together all those years ago, long before they had become romantic partners, unravelling the Christmas Eve mystery of Careful Lionel and his plane tickets. They'd spent the night in quarantine in the lab then too. She wondered if his fiancée, Ivy, who had come to the lab to hear his story and get some closure on her beloved, was still alive after all these years. Of all the hundreds of cases they'd solved, there were a few that really stood out. That had been one of those, not just because of the sadness and hope that that case had generated, but that that had been her first Christmas since her parents' disappearance where she'd been forced to confront some of her feelings on the subject. That had been the start of a very long, Booth-and-Angela-paved road to where they were now. So many things had changed, but both her best friend and her husband had been almost ever-present through the entire time. She brimmed with happiness at this thought, knowing that Angela had found happiness with Hodgins, even with the ups and downs of their lives, and she with the man dozing next to her. Everything had just turned out fine, better than she could have ever imagined.

Brennan leaned into her husband, kissing him gently, just appreciating him being there.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Booth."

"Happy Valentine's Day, Bones," he mumbled back, before his breathing evened out. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to follow him into slumber.

* * *

 **That's it. I hope you enjoyed it, especially FaithInBones.**


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